


Shadowed Perch

by EmeraldHeiress



Series: How Dangerous (A Mask Can Be) [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: Alternate Universe - Court of Owls | Talon (DCU), Angst, Disassociative Language, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt Jason Todd, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jason Todd Feels, Jason Todd is Blackbird, Jason Todd is a Talon, Jason Todd-centric, Kidnapping, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Slade Wilson, Semi-Mute Jason, Serious Injuries, Shiva is Jason's Mom, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26573251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldHeiress/pseuds/EmeraldHeiress
Summary: Jason was stolen from his bedroom ten years ago and now his father will find out why.Aka - Quiet Night mini-verse.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Rose Wilson, Jason Todd & Slade Wilson
Series: How Dangerous (A Mask Can Be) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1932781
Comments: 21
Kudos: 310





	1. The Night (Isn't) Silent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MythologyGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MythologyGirl/gifts).



Blackbird gasped. He _knew_ that face. It was the only thing he really remembered from _before_. Silver hair framing a smiling blue eye as he held up a paper for inspection. (Wax colors drawn on it?) Lips twisted into a lopsided grin.

“ _D — Dad?_ ” Voice hoarse, barely a whisper. It didn’t matter. The words still snapped Deathstroke’s attention from Batman to his partner. Metal rang as chakram fell from limp fingers and the teen approached the mercenary.

A gloved hand reached for a scarred face.

“ _Blackbird?_ ” Batman asked, carefully.

“Wayne, what is this?” Wilson growled but didn’t move, letting the boy touch his face. Eyes intent on the darkness of the hood and the glowing golden eyes within.

“ _They said — you — were dead._ ” Blackbird rasped, with audible effort.

Slade slowly moved, hand trembling only to the trained eye, and tugged the hood down. Black hair fell to frame the boy’s face, a shock of silver the same shade as Slade’s fell in front of those aureate eyes. Falling from the same place Jason’s had as a child.

Callused fingers carefully took strand between them as he examined it.

He’d given up hope.

It had been ten years since his youngest son had been kidnapped. Snatched from his room in the middle of the night. No ransom demand. No threats. Just _gone_.

Vanished into the night.

And now he was standing in front of him. One of Batman’s strays. Once blue eyes now strigine. 

It didn’t matter.

What happened. Where he had been.

_It didn’t matter._

Swallowing past the sudden lump in his throat, Slade Wilson gently wrapped his arms around his missing son’s shoulders and embraced him.

“ _Jason_.” The mercenary closed his eye, struggling to hold back the wave of unidentifiable emotions.

“ _Is that — my name?_ ” 

And the world shattered again.

“What did you _do?!_ ” Arms tightened around his son as he glared at the man in the Batsuit, standing uncomfortably a few feet away. Batman shook his head, holding up his hands as if asking for peace but Slade would not be swayed. He snarled as one hand reached for his sword.

“ _N — No!_ ” Jason tugged at his arm. “ _No! The C-court! Not B!_ ”

Ice gripped Deathstroke’s stomach. _Oh, fuck, no_. “The Court?”

The eyes. He should have known. _The eyes._

“ _The Court of —_ ” 

“That’s enough, Blackbird.” Batman soothed. Slade sharply inhaled, ready to start yelling, but the man continued. “You _rest_ your voice. I know it hurts.” 

Slade felt the teen nod against his arm and a wave of guilt washed through him. He hadn’t realized talking was hurting his son. But… It shouldn’t have been. Jason had his healing factor. Nothing should have — Clenching his jaw, he gently grasped the boy’s chin and raised it, allowing the light to fall on his throat.

Throwing a gruesome scar in sharp relief.

If he were in less control of his body, he would have been sick.

Two sons with scars across their necks.

He quickly released his grip as his son made a distressed sound low in his throat. He hadn’t meant to upset him. Only check his suspicions.

He almost wished he hadn’t.

“Come to the Manor. We can talk there.” Batman ran a tired hand over his face. “There’s… a lot to discuss.”

Slade nodded, weary in his own right. The last place he wanted to go was Wayne Manor but for his son… He gently squeezed the boy’s shoulder and ran fingers through his black and silver hair.

He would do anything for Jason.


	2. Granite & Lime

Talon cocked its head, watching the street below its perch. A few weeks had passed since the Court was destroyed and it didn’t know how to fill the empty hours. It had slept the first few days. **  
**

Sleep had been scarce in the aerie. Noises too loud. Boots too harsh. Blades too sharp; too close. Always woken after a handful of hours for more training — endless training — and time on The Table.

It didn’t like to think about time on The Table.

Food had been the next priority. Talon had gone longer without but it was best not to do so. It needed to make sure that it could perform its functions properly without the distraction that hunger caused.

Even if it wasn’t sure what its function really was anymore. 

Still, food was easy to find in the bins behind the… restaurants? It thought that was what they were called. It didn’t remember. It didn’t remember a lot from… before. Before the Court.

In the Court, Talon knew to keep its head down. To pretend. To say _Yes, Grandmaster_ and _It will obey._

It didn’t remember learning those lessons.

It suspected they had been on The Table.

Talon had obeyed. Right up until the Court had been attacked by the Enemy. The Man that was a Bat. _No_. That wasn’t right. 

The Batman. 

_It will not obey._

Talon slipped away.

And now it watched.

It had found a nest in the bell tower of an abandoned church in one of the slums. It had thought it had heard the residents call the area Crime Alley.

Shouting caught its attention. _Close_. It didn’t like loud noises. Loud noises meant _hurt_. 

On silent feet, Talon walked along the rooftop to find the source. In the alley below a man was threatening two children — girls — with a knife. Words indistinct in its ears, the tone was enough for it to understand. 

The girls were curled against each other, trembling, terror in every inch of their frames. Talon snarled, a flash of memory — fleeting and indistinct; the Grandmaster towering over it — and dropped onto the man below. 

In a series of smooth motions, Talon knocked the feet out from under him, grabbed the man’s hair, and slit his throat, spilling rich red blood onto the concrete. It felt the splatter on its face and couldn’t help the small smile of a job well done. The rush of victory ingrained in its very bones.

Talon turned gold eyes to the girls still hunkered down among the refuse. 

“ _Go_.”

Its voice was nearly a shadow — a whistle of air barely touching damaged vocal cords.

They fled, scrambling over themselves and stifling tears.

Talon looked at the scarlet pool growing at its feet and _remembered_. Remembered the way the girls had cowered and cried. Remembered the Grandmaster. The way the man with the knife had threatened. It smiled. 

It had found a function.


	3. Pricking of Thumbs

Jason glances around, feeling the first stirrings of unease in his belly. He’s lost his sister in the crowd. Joey and Rose had brought him out for ice cream, a treat while their father was away. One of his older siblings almost always watches him when his father is gone. **  
**

A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth and his stomach turns. Daddy isn’t going to be happy with him if he gets lost. Icy fingers of fear trail down his spine but he tries to ignore them. He has to be brave.

Like Daddy and Joey and Rosie.

Like the stories they tell each other when he’s supposed to be in bed. When he sneaks down the stairs to listen to them laugh and talk about their adventures. When Daddy pulls the bottle out of the freezer, the one Jason isn’t allowed to touch.

He turns in circles, people and storefronts blurring in front of his eyes as he looks for Rose. She had just been there. His face heats and the back of his neck prickles as the hair stands on end. Something’s wrong. 

Something — Jason gasps, struggling to fill his lungs with air. _Something’swrongwrongwrongwrong_ — 

A hand lands on his shoulder and he whirls around, feeling the sting of tears on his cheeks as he raises his arms, ready to fight. Ready to scream. Ready to run.

“Hey!” 

A face blurs in front of him and he blinks. Jason’s vision clears.

“Rosie!” He cries, burrowing into her stomach. 

“Hey, it’s okay!” Arms wrap around him and her voice soothes him, calm and low. “It’s okay, little man. You’re okay.”

She stands with him, in the middle of the sidewalk, as he calms down. A gentle thumb wipes his tears and a warm smile comforts him. She tugs gently at the stripe of silver in his hair. The one that matches hers.

“Don’t worry, buddy. None of us will ever let anything happen to you.”

He smiles into the cotton of her shirt. As if anything could. 

—————

“I heard you had a scare this afternoon, Jay.” Slade’s voice washes over Jason as the man pulls the duvet up and tucks it around the six year old. He’d been waiting for them when they’d gotten back. A full three days before he was supposed to be home.

“I wasn’t scared!” Jason denies, feeling a flush creep across his face.

“No?” His father asks, a twist to his lips like he’s amused. 

“No!” 

“Well…” A hand ducks under Jason’s bed and then comes back into view. A grey wolf plushie dangles in the air. “I guess you don’t need this, then?”

“Daddy!” 

Jason grins and reaches for the toy. His father’s low chuckle fills the room as he hands it over. He buries his nose in the mottled fur. It’s soft against his face. It has the sharp tang of the deodorizer Slade shoves in his duffel bag before every trip but Jason doesn’t care. 

Jason feels fingers run through his hair and he looks up, smiling around the stuffed animal as he beams a thank you.

“You’re welcome, Jay.” Slade’s tone is soft. The one reserved especially for Jay. “You know, it’s okay to be afraid.”

“I wasn’t scared!” 

Something twists in Jason’s stomach at the thought. He hadn’t been! He couldn’t be! Their family didn’t get scared. Wilsons were _strong_. They finished the job. He doesn’t know what that job is, just yet, but he knows it’s important.

“Well, if you ever are afraid, it’s okay to be that way.” Jason frowns and his stomach flips. His father doesn’t believe him. “Everyone’s afraid sometimes. You did the right thing, son. You stayed where Rose could find you.”

Jason shrugs, staring at the ears of his newest companion. Feeling his own heat in response.

“Hey, look at me.” His father’s hand is warm on his chin and his remaining eye bright in the light filtering in from the hall. Staring right through him. “You’re safe, Jay. Nothing’s gonna hurt you.”

“I wasn’t scared.” His lip trembled. He needs to convince his dad. ~~Needs to convince himself.~~ “I’m _strong_.” Jason declares, hoping his dad can’t hear the wobble in his voice.

“Of course you are, son. You’re a Wilson. That won’t change. Understand?”

 _No_. “Yeah.” The boy nods once, emphatically, and struggles against a yawn.

“Good.” Fingers run through his hair and his father turns to leave.”Good night, Jay.”

“Night, Daddy.”

The door stays cracked, muted yellow light spilling in from the hall. Jay clutches his new toy to his chest and turns to his side. His eyes roam over the drawings taped to the walls. Pictures of his father, brother, and sister splashed across white pages in lurid technicolor. 

His thoughts turn back to earlier. To the way he felt when he realized Rose was gone. To the fear — yes, fine, he was scared, whatever — he had felt. The worry. To the way he had been sure that something was wrong. 

The way he feels that something is wrong now.

The hair on the back of his next rises. 

A gloved hand darts out of the shadows and tangles in Jason’s hair, jerking him up and his head back. He gasps in shock, terror arcing up his spine and turning in his stomach. A glint of light from the crack in the door bounces off something silver — is that a knife? — before Jason has a chance to scream, it falls.

Something sharp and icy and agonizing slides across his throat and he can’t breath. 

_He can’t breathe._

Jason reaches toward the light, toward his father and sister and brother. He knows they’re just downstairs. He reaches for his family. 

He tries to shout but no air passes his lips. Bubbles form at his throat and pop under his chin. Wet and warm and sticky. He grasps for something — anything — as he screams in his head, calling for his father. Yet, everything is so quiet. 

The only sound is the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears.

In his struggle, he rolls, tumbling off the bed but unfamiliar arms catch him. His throat burns.

Helpless, he looks up.

Above him, an empty face as pale as the moon stares back. For the second time that day, tears roll down his face — mixing with the blood pooling under him. 

The blade rises again and Jason knows only darkness.

**Author's Note:**

> Moving this over from Tumblr. 
> 
> I'm going to be breaking up the large collection of Batfam blurbs and making them individual works so people can read and bookmark favorites that way. I'm also going to be moving more blurbs over from Tumblr! Sorry about all the activity to those that are subscribed!


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